


Full Circle

by Buildyourwalls



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-25
Updated: 2009-01-25
Packaged: 2020-09-01 06:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buildyourwalls/pseuds/Buildyourwalls
Summary: When they first start touring, living inside of a van is fun, almost exciting. Ryan gets used to the tangle of limbs between cities, understands that personal space is non-existent in the confines of a 15 passenger van.





	Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samedifference_](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=samedifference_).

> I have no idea where this came from, really. I'll just blame samedifference_ about this, cause I don't usually write this pairing anymore unless it's smut for her and this isn't even smutty. So, this is for her then, and since she's lovely she beta'ed it too.
> 
> _this fic was originally posted in 2009_

> I'm miles from where you are,  
I lay down on the cold ground  
I, I pray that something picks me up  
And sets me down in your warm arms
> 
> \-- _Set The Fire To The Third Bar_, Snow Patrol  


  
  
**i**  
  
When they first start touring, living inside of a van is fun, almost exciting. Ryan gets used to the tangle of limbs between cities, understands that personal space is non-existent in the confines of a 15 passenger van.  
  
They're leaving and never going back, and even if this album doesn't make it, at least he knows he tried.  
  
He tried.  
  
**v**  
  
Brendon captures a crowd in a way Ryan has never been able to achieve. He moves all over the stage with intoxicating energy and smiles at the crowd like he knows how they feel. Jon often says that it must be a gift.  
  
Ryan starts strumming the first bars of Northern Downpour. He suddenly has the itch to brush his fingers through Brendon's hair, to tell him, like he has so many times before, how beautiful he really is.  
  
He leans over and kisses Brendon's cheek.  
  
The crowd goes wild, and Ryan knows that there will be pictures all over the internet the next night. It'll cause a stir for weeks to come, and the fans will try put meaning behind it in any way they can.  
  
But right now, Ryan isn't going to think about that. Brendon looks over at him and smiles behind the mic.  
  
Right now, everything is perfect.  
  
**iii**  
  
"You're not doing it _right_," Ryan snaps.  
  
Brendon's mouth tightens. "Yeah, I get that part, but what the fuck is the rest suppose to mean?"  
  
"It means--" Ryan stops, and takes a deep controlled breath. "It's just not right."  
  
A groan emits between Brendon's lips. He pauses for a second, focusing on the wall next to him for a moment, before perking up. "Do you want me to go higher? I could change the key, maybe a half step and--"  
  
"No," Ryan interrupts. He closes his eyes. He can hear Brendon's voice, the pitch breathy, but full, with just the right amount of vibrato. "You just need to..." Ryan spins his hand in a circle, trying to find the right answer.  
  
Brendon lifts an eyebrow, tilting his head, waiting. "Well? An answer in the form of a sentence would be perfect, Ross."  
  
Ryan shakes his head and sighs. "You're just not doing it right."  
  
"That's--that's not even a fucking answer," Brendon says tightly. He opens his mouth to continue, before snapping it shut. He pulls off the headphones and throws them on the table nearby, walking out of the sound booth.  
  
"Where are you going?" Ryan calls.  
  
"The fuck away from you," Brendon retorts.  
  
**vi**  
  
The call goes straight to voicemail.  
  
"Fuck," Ryan whispers. He looks down at his phone again, fingers rubbing over the keys. He's about to call again when his front door opens and Brendon walks into the living room. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head.  
  
"You know," Brendon says, leaning against the corner, hooking his leg over so the tip of his shoe sits perfectly on the floor. It shakes energetically when he crosses his arms. "You're a douche."  
  
Ryan tries to stop himself from rolling his eyes, really he does. "Did Spencer send you?"  
  
"No, actually," Brendon replies, his eyes focus on the floor for a moment before flickering up at Ryan. "I came all on my own. Considering that Keltie called me just about...five minutes ago."  
  
Ryan raises his eyebrow. "She called _you_?"  
  
"Does she know about the past?" Brendon asks in lieu of an answer.  
  
"What the--" Ryan gapes, and shakes his head. "No, of course she doesn't. You didn't--Did you tell her?"  
  
Brendon lets out a wry laugh. "I'm an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. I _kind_ of want to keep my job, you know?"  
  
Ryan closes his eyes and leans back against the couch. "You're a dickhead."  
  
"No, actually, that's you," Brendon corrects. "You were the one getting caught swapping spit with your ex at the Phantom Planet show. Which, by the way?" Brendon claps loudly. "Fantastic job. Nice way to make yourself out to be the biggest fucktard in existence."  
  
"And this is coming from the guy who fucked a friend's girlfriend," Ryan mutters dryly.  
  
Brendon walks the distance over to the couch. He's stands above Ryan, his arms still crossed. "I was trying to prove a point," he says, a sardonic smile on his face. "The point got across."  
  
"What? That you're a selfish bastard?"  
  
Brendon clicks his tongue. "Oh, Ross, haven't you heard? You should never throw stones in glass houses."  
  
**iv**  
  
It's dark outside. The only light into the hotel room is from a street lamp next to the window. It illuminates Brendon's back and Ryan reaches out to brush his fingertips against his skin. It's soft.  
  
Brendon asks, "Do you think that we're really going to make it?"  
  
"Yes," Ryan says without hesitation. His hand stops in between Brendon's shoulders. "Don't you?"  
  
"I hope so. I really hope so."  
  
He presses closer to Ryan, wraps his arm around his waist and buries his face in the crook of Ryan's neck. His breath is warm; his lips chapped.  
  
"I want this forever," Brendon whispers.  
  
"Me too," Ryan whispers back.  
  
**x**  
  
"I'm leaving."  
  
Ryan furrows his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'I'm leaving'?"  
  
Brendon shrugs. "Band's on hiatus, Spencer's sailing away up through Alaska with Haley, Jon's in Chicago with Cassie, and I'm leaving."  
  
"But--" Ryan stops for a second, looks down at Brendon's shoes. Flip-flops. He hasn't worn a single pair of sneakers in two years. Jon certainly has made an impression on him over the years. "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
"You know, I thought about that and I honestly can't tell you," Brendon laughs. It's not harsh or even sad; it's an actual laugh. "I guess it's because I finally realized that since the moment I've met you, I've always needed your approval."  
  
Ryan lifts his head and opens and closes his mouth several times. Brendon lifts a hand to stop him from saying more. "Except now. I don't need it now."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Ryan says in disbelief. It was the same thing he said to Keltie when she left. It’s strange how situations revisit themselves.  
  
"Maybe it is," Brendon whispers. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Ryan's cheek, the faintest brush of a kiss. "But did you really think this would last forever?"  
  
When Brendon leaves, the light of the setting sun reflects on the windshield. Ryan tries to see the expression on Brendon face but he can't.  
  
**vii**  
  
There's music playing, loud, with a bass line that thrums through Ryan's arms, down to his toes. His drink is nearly empty, and he considers whether he should get a refill. Spencer is at the bar talking to Haley. He says something against her ear that makes her laugh. Ryan smiles.  
  
He feels a hand on his shoulder, and turns around to see Brendon staring at him, an expression on his face he hasn't seen in a long time. Ryan looks over his shoulder briefly and leans into Brendon's ear and says, "What are you doing?"  
  
Brendon grabs Ryan's drink, and then his wrist, deft fingers wrapping around and pulling him into a dark corner. The club is still alive, the music loud, but now they are shadowed just right so no one can see them. Brendon starts biting and sucking at Ryan's neck, and the moan that comes out is involuntary.  
  
"If you had to choose who would you choose?" Brendon asks. He has to scream in order for Ryan to hear him against the music, but it still sounds husky.  
  
Ryan shakes his head. It's not about choice. Ryan knows it would never work like this, with Brendon up against him at a club in the corner in the dark, always in the dark.  
  
Brendon bites hard on Ryan's ear. "It's always her, huh?" His hand cups Ryan's erection and squeezes. The feeling is so overwhelming that Ryan slams his head against the wall and sees stars in his vision.  
  
Brendon is careful because he needs reassurance, needs that communication. Ryan knows that he never asks for it from anyone else. He's even told him before, that he always needs it from Ryan. Brendon undoes Ryan's pants and tugs them just over the curve of his ass. His mouth is warm and wet against his dick and Ryan instinctively grabs onto Brendon's hair.  
  
He doesn't let go.  
  
**ix**  
  
They're all inside of a random store in the middle of Atlanta -- Hotlanta, as Brendon prefers to call it -- killing time before going out with Alex and Darren later that night. Ryan can see Brendon through his peripheral, can feel him getting closer. He tries to focus on the random Buddha figurine instead.  
  
"So I was thinking," Brendon says cautiously, softly. "That maybe this whole...thing you're doing is just a test."  
  
Ryan's neck jerks over to look at Brendon, his stomach twisting, his mouth turning dry. "What's a test?"  
  
Brendon shrugs nonchalantly. "You. Her. Us. Maybe it's all just some great big test to see who gives in first." He doesn't look at Ryan directly, but Ryan can see his eyes shift to give a sideways glance.  
  
"Brendon, I've been with Keltie for--" He stops, feeling the rumble of the Sidekick against his hip and pulls it out to see a text waiting from her.  
  
_See you in New York <3_  
  
Ryan smiles at the text for a moment before glancing up at Brendon. His face is expressionless, but his eyes give away everything. One of the best and worst features about Brendon is his eyes.  
  
"She can't give you everything, you know," Brendon says eventually. His voice cracks a little at the end, like he's been holding onto those words for years and just now decided that in the middle of some tacky Atlanta souvenir shop, that it's the right time to say it.  
  
"Maybe she can't," Ryan whispers, "but you couldn't either."  
  
**viii**  
  
Ryan loves Hawaii. He loves the seclusion, the water, everything. They've rented some little hut that has a thatched roof and it's warm but the breeze is constant and Ryan is just a little in love with Hawaii.  
  
Keltie curls around him, her smooth leg hooking over his thigh. There's beads of sweat against her bare back, and Ryan brushes his fingers over them, pooling each one together. She lets out a satisfied sigh, turning her face to kiss his chest.  
  
"God, you wear me out," she whispers.  
  
Ryan laughs, staring at the sun flickering through the roof. It looks like little stars all over, a constant constellation just for them. "You were the one who insisted on an encore."  
  
Keltie chuckles and turns, her arm resting across his chest. Her eyes search over his face, and the expression she has makes his chest ache. She looks like she's opening him up and looking inside, seeing every flaw and every mistake Ryan has ever made and tucked away. She cards her fingers through his hair, brushing back his bangs and leaning over to kiss him softly.  
  
"I love you," she whispers against his mouth.  
  
"I love you, too," he whispers back and means it.  
  
**ii**  
  
Ryan has his eyes closed, but he's not asleep. Brent snores and sometimes Ryan wakes up whenever he lets out a particularly loud one that has the resemblance of a dying pig, or something. Either way, he's not going back to sleep anytime soon.  
  
He tries to move without waking Brendon, who has seemingly found that curling against Ryan is the best option for maximum sleep. But the current position has Ryan's leg asleep and the numb feeling is not pleasant. He moves a little but it makes Brendon stir, his face rubbing against Ryan's arm.  
  
"You're bony," Brendon murmurs sleepily.  
  
"And you're hot and sweaty. A sacrifice for all of us, it seems," Ryan says in a bored voice.  
  
Brendon gets up for a moment, the cold blast of air making Ryan shudder. He opens his eyes and sees Brendon looking up into the night sky, the moon shining on his smiling face. He looks down at Ryan and smiles wider. They're gonna make it.  
  
Ryan smiles back.


End file.
